


The Great Snowdin Massacre

by Saifa



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gyftmas, Platonic Relationships, Pun Wars, Snowball Fight, Snowdin, skelebros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 01:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saifa/pseuds/Saifa
Summary: A pun war between the skeleton brothers escalates into a snowballing situation, and Snowdin citizens get caught in the crossfire.





	The Great Snowdin Massacre

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drappersky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drappersky/gifts).



> Quick Undertale Secret Santa Winter 2018 back up fic I did for Drappersky. The request was fun in the snow with the skelebros and a reader character.
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> PS - Title subject to change.

         “Put a little more backbone into it, brother!” Papyrus shouted down at Sans, his voice full of vibrato.

         “I am,” Sans called back with a lazy grin and a nonchalant wave before turning to plop down in the snow. He leaned back to nestle against his snow fort and closed his eye sockets. It was more accurate to call it a lump, although it was one of his better ones. If there was a contest for who could make the best snow bean bag chair, Sans would have been declared the winner. It barely had the makings of an ill-fated wall and it was just tall enough to match his shoulder in height when he sat.

         “Oh my god, Sans!!” Papyrus squawked in displeasure.

         You stared up at Papyrus in awe from your spot by Snowdin's Gyftmas tree. By now a small crowd had gathered around you to watch the brothers’ latest shenanigans. What had started out as an innocent pun war quickly escalated to a battle of masterful architecture on Papyrus’ part against signature and aggravating laziness on Sans’. You were appointed to be the referee, and you willingly obliged. Never would you have guessed how intense brotherly competition could be with these two, although it was more accurate to say Papyrus was waging war against Sans’ idleness.

         “I think it’s safe to say you win this round, Papyrus!” you shouted while cupping your hands around your mouth. You craned your head upwards to look at Papyrus, who was standing proudly at the top of his snow tower with chest puffed out and hands on his hips. The tower was twice the height of the town’s Gyftmas tree and seemed to balance precariously as it leaned heavily to one side. Somehow, the skeleton managed to create his own Leaning Tower of Pisa in an absurdly short amount of time. Large icicles pointed upwards and surrounded the base as a deterrent for any pesky daredevils and invaders. How Papyrus stood atop it was another mystery, but you swore all it took him was a single jump to scale it.

         “Of course I win, because I am very great at building the strongest of snow defenses! But this is still unacceptable. I must show Sans the error of his ways. Just look at how exposed my brother is. A single snowball from a dastardly hand will render him a numbskull!”

         You covered your mouth to conceal your giggles. Admittedly, Papyrus had a point. Sans’ fort wasn’t much of a safe haven from a playful attack.

         Sans tilted his head so the back of his skull rested on the wall’s shelf. He grinned lazily at his brother and shrugged. “They’d have to hit me first.”

         Papyrus scoffed. “Like you would ever move, you lazybones.”

         “Don’t have to.”

         “That’s even worse!” Papyrus scowled and stamped his foot, catching the implication of a shortcut.

         You watched the tall skeleton curiously as he crouched behind the wall. You could only see the top of his skull, but every now and then his face would pop up into full view. When he finally stood, you grimaced at the load of snowy ammunition in his arms.

         “You’ll see! You’ll all see” Papyrus shouted across the town. “I declare war on all forms of laziness! Behold and cower under my snowballing assault!”

         The first shot hit Sans squarely in the face and exploded into a mess of powder and wet slush. Sans groaned and flinched at the unexpected contact as some of the snow fell into his eye sockets. He bolted upright, slush falling down his front, and whirled around to stare at his brother. His eyelights shrank to pinpricks.

         You didn’t have time to appreciate Papyrus’ clever pun. Before you knew it, snowballs were raining down on the town, smacking windows, hitting roofs and awnings, and pelting Snowdin’s poor citizens indiscriminately. The monsters that had gathered around you scattered in a frenzy like mad cats caught in a downpour. You dove to the ground and crawled to the closest shelter, which was Sans’ unfortunate snow fort. Sans kept his head as low as he could. He laid nearly flat on his back, his eyelights darting to you as he gave you a shrug and a sheepish grin that was twisting into a grimace.

         All around you were panicked screams and frantic steps shuffling and crunching through the snow. Above it all, you and Sans distinctly heard Papyrus’ maniacal cackle as he twirled around like a top, throwing snowballs in every direction and angle possible. There seemed to be no end to the rapid-fire flurry. As Papyrus foretold, several snowballs smashed against the back and top of Sans skull. His eye sockets went dark from the stun. Meanwhile, several snowballs bombed down on your back and head.

         Only when the last of the doors slammed shut from monsters seeking shelter and silence finally fell over the town did you and Sans dare to lift your heads. Slush slid from the top of his skull while much of it clung heavily to your jacket and hair. Ghostly and soft groans hung around the Gyftmas tree from the strewn bodies of monsters too slow to escape. They laid spread-eagled on the trampled snow. Splatters of wet snow covered their faces, scarves, and jackets, marking them of the snowy carnage they succumbed to.

         “Well, that’s one way to make some snow angels,” Sans wheezed.

         “Oh, gosh,” you squeaked, both at the pun and the sight.

         “I heard that!” Papyrus called. “Although I will admit it was one of your more clever ones.”

         You looked to the Gyftmas tree, and gasped at how its star ornament nearly touched the ground. The poor evergreen was heavily weighted with snow from the blizzardy onslaught. Its needles trembled every time clumps of the wet white fell away.

         “Now, do you see, dear brother?” Papyrus bellowed proudly. He propped a foot up on the wall and braced a hand against his knee. “It’s good to be prepared when making a competent defense. Otherwise, you leave yourself open to an ambush, both friendly and nefarious. But hopefully more so friendly!”

         You and Sans eyed the final snowball Papyrus was casually tossing high into the air repeatedly. You turned to the short skeleton, knowing full well it was meant for him.

         “Don’t think this is over, brother! The pun-ishments will continue until your snow lumps improve! Don’t go snowflaking out on me.”

         “Run,” you squeaked to Sans.

         You blinked once and Sans was gone. The relief you felt was quickly shattered when Papyrus cackled again. You followed his line of sight to the open, ground floor window in their house and expressed exaggerated horror. Certainly, Papyrus would never be able to make that shot, right?

         “NYEH!” Papyrus shouted as he volleyed the last of his ammunition.

         The snowball flew through the air true to its mark and made solid contact with something inside. You swore you heard a faint wheeze.

 

* * *

 

         You wrapped several blankets around Sans’ shoulders and patted him on the back. He sat tiredly on the couch next to you and shivered from the chill that still clung to his bones. His hoodie hung to dry on the back of a kitchen chair. “He got you good, didn’t he?” you asked.

         “Let’s just say, if I had a physical brain, I would have experienced an entirely new meaning of brain freeze,” Sans’ voice drawled. His body suddenly shook from a violent sneeze that he directed into his elbow. Sniffling, he chuckled and waved you away when you reached for him out of concern. “It’s not something my cool bro’s hot chocolate can’t fix,” he winked.

         “You’ll only get this delectable hot chocolate if you promise to put more effort in your lumps!” Papyrus lightly scolded from the kitchen. He stepped out, carrying a tray with three steaming mugs. The sweet and rich aroma of milk chocolate and fresh, whipped cream filled the room.

         “You won fair and square, bro. You proved you’re the  _ coolest _ ,” Sans said, grinning as he leaned back and sank under the covers. He was finally beginning to feel warm.

         “Glad to hear you have realized the error of your ways, brother.”

         “The  _ frostiest.” _

         “Sans—” Papyrus warned.

         “You are absolutely  _ spine-chilling.” _

         Papyrus clamped his mouth shut to restrain his scream. He set the tray on the coffee table and passed the mugs.

         “I think Sans wins that round,” you chuckled. “You did chill him to the bone.”

         “Indeed,” Papyrus said, humming in displeasure at your additional pun, He took his own mug and sat next to you so you were in between the brothers. “On another note, let’s have a toast to the best referee we could ever ask for!”

         “To the human,” Sans said, raising his mug. “Always willing to walk with us in a winter pun-derland.”

         Papyrus rolled his eyelights and shook his head. “And now that you’re here with us, there’s snowplace like home.”

         “Aww, you guys,” you said, unable to hide the smile in your voice. You raised your mug and lightly clinked it with theirs.

         Your eyes lit up when they both leaned in to nuzzle your cheeks.


End file.
